An Instance Of Exchange
by Embittered
Summary: 7th year. Wrenched from Beauxbatons by a Hogwarts exchange student program, meet Rikki and Imogen, two of the most dissimiliar friends. [HPOC, OWOC, RWHG]
1. Boarding the Train

A/N This is our first attempt at fanfic (it's a joint effort between me and a friend.) We are open to any suggestions particularly about the title as we are currently divided. Please review constructively. We are both very aware of the abundance of Mary-Jane type characters; any comment as to whether either of ours falls into the category would be very much appreciated! Thanks!  
  
Disclaimer- Harry Potter and all the associated belong exclusively to JK Rowling. We do this solely to fill our tedious days and are not generating a profit from its publication. However both Rikki and Imogen belong to us.  
  
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental  
  
Chapter 1 Boarding the Train  
  
Rikki Carmichael and Imogen Usher stood to the side, surreptiously watching the milieu move around the platform with a clear sense of purpose and direction. The two girls, both exchange students from Beauxbatons seemed to lack this inherent familiarity and instead talked quietly amongst themselves.  
  
"Do you think we should board?" Rikki, the shorter of the two asked. She had dark blonde hair and glasses, her usually open and bubbly face darkened with anxiety and nervous excitement.  
  
Imogen shrugged her shoulders laconically. "We probably should if we want to get good seats." She seemed less nervous then her blonde counterpart, but she had been to many a new school in her younger years and the sight of new faces had lost it previous novelty. The two boarded the train just as a family emerged from the magical barrier, apparently unscathed.  
  
"Oh Ginny, watch that poor owl! Honestly, Ronald, you can go and find Hermione after you've said goodbye."  
  
A tall adolescent leaned down and kissed his mother before motioning to the dark-haired boy beside him. The two moved confidently through the throng, waving and calling to old friends and acquaintances. They looked about and waited for their friend, unaware that they stood in the spot previously occupied by the two Beauxbatons girls. Ron Weasley looked over the heads of the crowd before calling out a bushy-haired girl struggling with a heavy trunk.  
  
"Oi Hermione! Oi! Over here!"  
  
Hermione turned at the sound of her voice before launching herself at him with an excited squeal. "Ron, wow, it's so good to see you! Look at how much you have grown! You too, Harry!"  
  
She said turning to the raven-haired boy surveying the scene with a bemused grin.  
  
"Its good to see you too, Hermione." He said carefully, giving her a chaste hug. Those two are so oblivious, he thought to himself, everyone knows but them. Maybe this is the year they will get it together. The three were preparing for their last year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after six long years of schooling.  
  
"We should probably get a compartment," Harry said to the two of them. "Wouldn't want all the little first years to get the best ones."  
  
"Too right mate. Nasty little buggers, those first years, positively vicious." Said Ron relieving Hermione of her trunk.  
  
"Honestly you two, we were first years once, remember?"  
  
Ron snorted derisively. "Us? Course we weren't 'Mione, you must be mistaken. Now quickly before I have to hex them out of our compartment."  
  
Meanwhile Rikki and Imogen exited the luggage compartment and found a thankfully empty compartment at the back of the train. The settled and Imogen pulled a muggle paperback book out of her carry on bag.  
  
'I don't know how you can just tune out and read at a time like this." Said Rikki exasperatedly. Imogen looked up and cocked a mildly amused eyebrow.  
  
"The serial killer could dismember someone else any chapter now. How can I not?"  
  
Just as Rikki sighed and began to warn Imogen that such morbid fascination could come to no good, the glass door slid open to reveal three Hogwarts students. The two groups studied each other, as if sizing up the newcomers when Hermione spoke.  
  
"Can we join you? Everywhere else is full."  
  
Rikki appraised her with a thoughtful expression before answering. "Sure."  
  
Harry exchanged a sceptical look with Ron but sat down nonetheless.  
  
"Are you new?" Ron asked curiously. "I don't think I have seen you 'round."  
  
"We're exchange students form Beauxbatons. I'm Imogen and this is Rikki." "Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "And this,' gesturing to Ron 'is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."  
  
Rikki visibly perked at Harry's name, her eyes roving his forehead. Imogen, however, did not seem perturbed. Muggleborn or not, she knew who Harry Potter was, but was sure that he was sick and tired of being treated like a spectacle in a circus. I know I am, she thought wearily. She smiled carefully at the two boys who smiled warily back. Harry was surprised to find they were exchange students. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned anything of the sort the year before and Harry wasn't even aware there was an exchange program between the two schools. Ron however was a having a harder time curbing his curiosity.  
  
"Why don't you have French accents then?"  
  
The girls exchanged a knowing glance.  
  
"We were born in Britain, but we received acceptance letters from Beauxbatons not Hogwarts. That's also why our names aren't French in origin." Said Rikki.  
  
"You speak French?" said Hermione interestedly as she remembered her own holiday to the European country in her third year.  
  
"Fluently. We had to; all our lessons were in French."  
  
"And you're in the seventh year." Harry asked watching Imogen intently. She hadn't spoken a word since they introduced themselves, feeling uncomfortable under they're questioning. Their eyes met and Harry wondered what secrets those grey eyes held.  
  
"Yes, we're staying for the rest of the year." Rikki answered before Imogen could even begin. "We'll be graduating with you."  
  
The rest of the journey went well, with much talk between the teens. Imogen and Rikki asked the other three about Hogwarts and lessons and alternatively they were asked about their old school and their home lives. Rikki was from a prominent pureblood wizarding family, whose father was a magical property investor. Imogen was muggleborn, brought up by her mother after her father died a few years back. She seemed reluctant to elaborate on the subject, leaving Harry to inwardly question the manner in which he died. Was it Voldemort? After his resurrection and the incident at the Ministry of Magic, deaths and disappearances were common place, the attacks rendering many students orphans. She wouldn't be the first to lose a parent. They changed into their robes and arrived at the station in the pouring rain. After Ron, Hermione and Harry waved briefly to the enormous form of Hagrid, they made a mad dash for the carriages, the rain washing down in sheets. Suddenly Imogen gasped and pointed to the front of the carriages.  
  
"What in the world are they?" She asked.  
  
"What's what?" Rikki shouted over the deluge. "I can't see anything."  
  
"They're Thestrals!" Harry yelled fighting to be heard over the torrent. "I'll tell you about them later."  
  
He grabbed Imogen's hand and they bolted after Rikki who was climbing into the carriage afterRon and Hermione.  
  
Once they were safe from the downpour and had caught they're breath, Imogen turned to Harry.  
  
"What did you say those things were?"  
  
"Thestrals." he said, shanking his head and drenching everyone with more water.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione scolded  
  
"Sorry.' He said apologetically. "They're Hagrid's." he said to Imogen. "They pull the carriages to Hogwarts.  
  
"Why couldn't Rikki see them then?" she asked, perplexed.  
  
"They're only visible to people who have seen death." He answered carefully. Imogen's features froze and she began to adjust her robes compulsively.  
  
"Who was it you- "Harry was cut off by Rikki.  
  
"Miserable weather. Is it always like this?"  
  
Harry tried to catch Imogen's eye: Rikki had quite obviously cut him off before he could ask her, but her eyes were fixed out the window, her expression pensive. The carriage lurched onwards; the conservation rang around Harry while he studied Imogen. She was still gazing out the window, occasionally reaching up to the brush the red gold hair, which dashed, across her eyes. With almighty jerk, the carriage came to a stop and Rikki and Imogen shared an anxious glance. They were finally at Hogwarts 


	2. The Sorting

A/N Thank you very much to Miranda Goshawk our first and only reviewer. Still the story goes onwards. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer- Harry Potter and all the associated belong exclusively to JK Rowling. We do this solely to fill our tedious days and are not generating a profit from its publication. However both Rikki and Imogen belong to us.  
  
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental  
  
Chapter 2 The Sorting  
  
"And so, in hope of continuing international magical ties with other countries, Hogwarts has the pleasure of hosting two exchange students from Beauxbatons Magical Academy."  
  
Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at the two heavy doors at the end of the Great Hall. The two doors opened, creaking with age and two girls stepped from its shadows.  
  
Imogen Usher and Rikki Carmichael strode purposefully towards the staff table as Dumbledore continued.  
  
"Miss Usher and Miss Carmichael are joining our seventh years to complete their magical schooling. Both will be staying the entire year to partake in various social and scholastic activities. Ergo, it is fitting that Miss Usher and Miss Carmichael should be sorted into their respective houses. Professor McGonagall?"  
  
Dumbledore turned towards McGonagall to commence the sorting of the two girls. She excused herself from the High Table and walked around to where the stool and the school's ratty Sorting Hat lay. She gestured to Imogen to step forward, and placed the Sorting Hat upon her head.  
  
Imogen 's face wore an expression of skeptism, her eyes looking upwards on the dirty hat that rested on her head. She sat still as a voice spoke in her ear.  
  
"Beauxbatons, eh? Mmmm.... ambitious and powerful.... quite ambitious, must say...yet you're quite a bold one... and you've a flair for the unexpected...I think, why not...GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Imogen soundlessly lifted the hat off her head and made her way towards the applauding table of Gryffindors. A vacant spot lay next to Harry and she lowered herself on to the long bench. Harry turned to her with a smile on his face. He'd noticed the reservation he'd felt towards her on the train had left as she sat with him. If she was Gryffindor, she had to be good. At least he hadn't unsuspectedly allied himself with a Slytherin.  
  
Or worse, fancied one, came a sly voice in his head. He couldn't help but be taken back by the notion that had entered his head. Evidently, he found her attractive, but fancied? Perhaps he did, he thought as she smiled radiantly at him.  
  
"Welcome to the best house in Hogwarts." He said turning to her, grinning with his revelation.  
  
"Thanks," she said, turning to watch Imogen being sorted. "Umm, Harry, did that hat talk to you in your head when you put it on?"  
  
She looked embarrassed as if she was fearful that it had only done so with her, or worse, that she had imagined it. Harry smiled at her chagrin.  
  
"Yeah, it's a bit unnerving, isn't it?"  
  
"A bit!" she said with a laugh. Reassured now that a telepathic hat was not a source of worry.  
  
Rikki, meanwhile, wriggled her way onto the tall stool, smoothing her short school skirt under her robe. She waited for the Sorting hat to sort her. A sudden voice interrupted her silence.  
  
"Ah, another Beauxbatons! Bit on the brainy side aren't you? Mmmm, yes. But then, you've very much a social butterfly. Social before scholastic? Yes.... I wonder if, maybe...GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
As Rikki seated herself next to Ron, Dumbledore got to his feet again. Applauding subsided and silence swept the house like a blast of cold air as the students looked expectedly up at his wise face.  
  
'And now let us eat!" The hall filled with cheers as the empty tabletops filled themselves with lamb, pork, chicken, mashed potatoes, salads and puddings.  
  
Ron reached for a large dish of chicken drumsticks that lay in front of Rikki.  
  
"S'cuse me," Ron said, with his mouth full of mashed potatoes. Rikki nodded, and helped pass the heavy dish to Ron as he helped himself to four large drumsticks and passed it onwards to Hermione, on his left side.  
  
Rikki looked up from her plate of chicken and mixed green salad to the High Table. In the centre, was Dumbeldore who was heartedly tucking into a serving of roast pork. Her eyes passed over to the other teachers, McGonagall, and a wizened wizard who she believed to be Professor Flitwick. However the man who occupied the next seat she didn't know-although she did know she liked the look of him. She eyed his well-built body, his full face, and his rich brown hair. His hands gripped his knife and fork as he talked avidly with Professor Vector, from the Arithmacy department. He looked up from his plate to respond to Professor Vector, and in doing so, locked eyes with Rikki. Brushing her short blonde hair out of her eyes, she smiled sweetly at him, noticing that his eyes were a crystal clear blue. He smiled cockily at her, leaning one arm and looking amusedly at her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, and gave a flirtatious smile. He winked at her, before turning back to Professor Vector to answer a question.  
  
Rikki kicked Imogen under the table. Imogen looked over from Harry where she was talking about Quidditch. Rikki jerked her eyebrows to the High Table and smiled art Imogen. She turned around and saw the guy who Rikki had been looking at. Glancing back to Rikki, she watched her friend mouth the word "hottie!" She smiled amusedly and turned back to Harry.  
  
Rikki shifted in here sat to talk to Ron.  
  
"Ron, who's that man who's sitting between Flitwick and is it, Vector?"  
  
Ron looked up from his third helping of roast pork. "Where?" he asked distractedly. "Oh him?" He nodded at the man who Rikki was talking about. "Oh-that's Oliver Wood. Used to go to school here, bout 5 years ago. Spent the last few years playing with Puddlemere United Quidditch team, Keeper. Did he knee in, so he's coming to teach flying and be the Quidditch instructor. Replacing Madam Hooch."  
  
He shovelled another mouthful of pork and potatoes in his mouth. Hermione looked disgustedly at him.  
  
"Brilliant, 'e is. Ruddy brilliant," Ron spoke thickly and swallowed. "Oi! Seamus! See that match against the Wimbourne Wasps? Thrashed 'em."  
  
Seamus Finnigan, seated next to Harry and Dean Thomas, leant forward to talk to Ron about various Quidditch matches. Rikki listened to them talk until Dumbeldore got easily from his chair.  
  
Silence yet again filled the Great Hall as Dumbledore' s voice broke the silence.  
  
"As you are undoubtedly happily fed and watered and ready for bed, I must firstly inform you of certain start of term notices. Yet again, I must remind you all that all students are banned from the Forbidden Forest. Mr Filch also requested me to inform you that magic in the hall is against the rules. I also have another person to introduce to you all. I assume you are all familiar with Puddlemere United's ex-Keeper. Oliver Wood, also Gryffindor 's former Keeper? Oliver, as he has requested you call him, is here to replace Madam Hooch and fufill flying lessons and Quidditch umpiring duties. And now, I think, it is time for bed. Well? Off you go! And would Miss Usher and Miss Carmichael make their way to the Staff Table?" he called over the noise of scarping chairs and talkative students.  
  
As the Great Hall emptied, Imogen and Rikki manovered their way to Dumbeldore. He led them to the end of the table.  
  
'I believe an introduction is in order. Ladies this is Professor Snape, Potions master.'' Snape nodded curtly at the two girls as he shook hands.  
  
'Hag rid, Caretaker and Care of Magical Creatures teacher," was greeted with an energetically pumped hand. Dumbeldore lead them past Professor McGonagall, Sprout, Sinistra, Trelawney, Flitwick, and Lupin until they came to Oliver. Imogen briefly shook hands with him and stepped back to allow Rikki to do the same. Rikki felt the tingle rocket up her arm and spread to her whole body as she smile semi-confidently at his handsome face. Feeling hot and bothered, she let go of his hand.  
  
To change the subject, Oliver spoke up, "What are you ladies like at flying?"  
  
Imogen brushed dit off, saying. "Oh fine, I was a Beater at my old school," while Rikki looked embarrassed at her mandatory black Mary Jane shoes. Looing back up again, sheepishly, she admitted.  
  
"I've never really been that good at it- never really was able to balance the whole thing."  
  
Dumbeldore' s eyes twinkled. "Well, as furthering your education with us, Miss Carmichael, I suggest some private flying lessons. Oliver?" He turned, enquiring, to Oliver.  
  
"O-of course, Headmaster. When do you have a free moment?" Oliver asked Rikki scanning her face.  
  
"I. don't know, as of yet. I haven't seen my timetable." Rikki smiled apologetically. "Perhaps we could arrange a time later?" She spoke with a subtle hint of hope.  
  
"You, Rikki haven't seen your timetable but I have and I do believe you have a spare period Tuesday afternoon. After lunch." Rikki turned to see McGonagall answer.  
  
"Alright." Oliver smiled and nodded. "I'll meet you in..." he paused, "..the Entrance Hall?"  
  
"Right." Rikki nodded once. "Thank you."  
  
Dumbeldore moved them on the end of the table. After meeting the teachers, Rikki sand Imogen excused themselves and left to resign in their dormitories. After being informed of the password and the directions to Gryffindor tower, the two girls turned to leave.  
  
As their retreating backs disappeared into the shadows, Dumbeldore shifted slightly.  
  
"Headmaster?" McGonagall questioned him.  
  
"Those girls... I doubt Hogwarts have seen the likes of them before.' He shook his head." Yes, Minerva, they are ones to watch. To watch with awe." He turned and exited to the right, leaving the entire staff table, curious with is words. 


	3. Early Sun Rising

Wow! 8 reviews. Come back from holiday to find that and well, I'll confess I did a little jig around the room. Shameless really, I'm in no physical state to be doing unprecedented jigs. So the much awaited 3rd chapter, but before we begin responses to our much acclaimed reviewers, whose blood is worth bottling.  
  
Voldie on Varsity Track- Both my writing partner and I agree with you, the story doesn't reach into new plains of originality, but we do hope to develop it into something that can pass away the long hours. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Cornelious- Thanks for the encouragement. The typos are my fault, I have little paitience for proof reading and instead leave it all to spell check. If it starts to get really atrocious (and knowing me there is a fair chance it will) I will repost.  
  
Whirr- By far out most faithful reviewer. Hogwarts students receive flying lessons in their first year. While this wouldn't be enough to cure the really bad ones of their ineptitude, they have pretty much had their chance. Rikki' s flying lessons are integral to the development of her character, even if it's probably a bit unrealistic.  
  
Betty of Gryffindor- Yours was my favourite review and most responsible for my unsightly jig. As an author, I'm most partial to Imogen' s character but Nameless, the other writer prefers Rikki. I think this is because she'd like to bring out her ditsy side a bit more, but that's enough pop phycology. However Imogen can't be herself without Rikki and vice versa, like in real life it is astonishing how such dissimilar people can come to rely on each other.  
  
Cardiff Bluebird- Don't fear! I am very aware of the influx of many Mary Sues in writing and detest the vacuous shallowness of beautiful stories filled with beautiful people facing beautiful trials. However there is more to the girls that could be considered Mary-Sueish. To combat that there's a conversation later on with two characters, which hints at their feelings towards the misrepresented reality of stories and power. But don't think that Rikki and Imogen are perfect. Rikki can be ditsy, shallow and slutty; later on she says stupid things that endanger her happiness in the heat of the moment. Imogen can be taciturn, unnecessarily cynical and doesn't trust people. She blames herself for things beyond her control and refuses to seek help. Both girls are not gorgeous but neither are they gorgons. I'm not trying to romanticise their faults, these are realistic characters, as no one in life has everything easy.  
  
Rebecca Anderson- Thanks for your enthusiasm. We are of course continuing the story even after my recent hiatus from fanfiction ( I didn't ask to go on holidays in the middle of my midterms...)  
  
Midnight Rouge- After much anticipation here is your third chapter.  
  
But another of this self-justification that story must proceed.  
  
Chapter 3- Their First Day  
  
Rikki awoke on the morning of her first day to the inane chattering only female girls can master. Sure that if she had only just awoken then Imogen would still be fast asleep, she went to rouse her friend.  
  
"Piss off, I'm sleeping," was the grumbled reply from beneath numerous layers of bedcovers.  
  
After much swearing (Imogen) and cajoling (Rikki), Imogen was up and the two girls were showered and ready.  
  
"So where to now?" Rikki asked, once she had finished surveying herself in the full length mirror and rolling her waistband.  
  
"Back to bed?" Imogen replied grumpily, eyelids still thick with sleep.  
  
Rikki rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Well to breakfast obviously. But how to get there?"  
  
"Don't look at me," Imogen said wagging her finger in Rikki's direction. "I have a semi-decent sense of direction at best and it only functions after midday."  
  
Rikki sighed. "Well, I wouldn't have a clue. I was too busy thinking about that hot guy."  
  
"That teacher," Imogen reminded her.  
  
"He was still hot," Rikki replied flippantly.  
  
Shaking her head at the futility of trying to reason with Rikki, Imogen followed the blonde down the staircase in search of the Great Hall.  
  
20 minutes and a Peeves encounter later Rikki and Imogen arrived at the Great Hall.  
  
"What kept you?" Ron asked, mouth full of half-macerated toast. Only, because of the presence of the toast it sounded more like 'whaft mept muu?'  
  
"Lost," Imogen replied simply, ignoring the empty plate in front of her and filling her goblet with pumpkin juice. "We couldn't find our way here, could we Rikki?"  
  
"Huh? Oh no, got lost," Rikki answered choppily, tearing her eyes away from Oliver who was eating breakfast, the source of many of the female students avid stares.  
  
"Seventh year timetables," Harry called all of a sudden. "Heres your Ron, Hermione, Rikki, Imogen."  
  
"Charms first, History of Magic, then Transfiguration and Double Potions in the afternoon! What did we do to deserve such a cruel and unusual punishment?" Ron was quite obviously (and loudly) lamenting the day's lessons.  
  
"Certainly not unusual," Harry countered dryly. "We've had double Potions with the Slytherins since first year. Don't expect Snape to stop his reign of terror now."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Imogen said sarcastically, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Is this teacher strict or something?"  
  
"Strict? Try sadistic. He's hated me since before I was born. My father used to give him a hard time at school and now he has made it a personal mission to make Potions a living hell for me."  
  
Imogen winced. The grudge was older then Harry and for that reason would not end with him. Ron too seemed to dislike him. And she was fairly certain she saw Neville flinch when Snape was mentioned.  
  
"He didn't look very friendly when we met him last night." Rikki said, aware of the conversation now that Oliver had left, presumably to prepare for classes.  
  
"Sallow, evil, greasy-haired git," Ron muttered darkly stabbing a sausage violently.  
  
"What do you have when I have flying lessons?" Rikki asked Imogen all of a sudden. "On Tuesday afternoon?"  
  
"Divinitation," Imogen said "Hopefully it will be a more productive class then the one at Beauxbatons."  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged dubious looks.  
  
"Divinitation is a waste of time. Professor's a fraud." Ron said bitterly.  
  
"She's been predicting my death since 3rd year. Needless to say that I am feeling very much alive at the moment."  
  
"Don't bet on it much longer, Scarhead,' came the scathing reply from somewhere in the vicinity of Rikki's shoulder. Almost as one Harry and Ron turned to face their adversary, faces darkened with identical expressions of great dislike.  
  
"Don't gawk at me like that, Weasel." Malfoy sneered. "I'm not here to degrade myself with your company. I'm here to introduce myself to our Beauxbaton friends. Draco Malfoy."  
  
Harry noticed he didn't bother to extend his hand. He'd made that mistake before.  
  
Imogen raised an eyebrow. "Imogen Usher." She said guardedly. The tension between Malfoy and the others was thick enough to severe with a knife.  
  
"Usher? That's not a pureblood name."  
  
"That may be because I'm not a pureblood." Imogen replied evenly.  
  
Draco sneered arrogantly at her. "More Mudblood trash."  
  
He turned to Rikki, a figure he couldn't have helped but to admire in the distance and was now irate to find that she would be of poor blood. "And you are?"  
  
"Rikki Carmichael. I trust you family are continuing its antique, evil, pureblood ways?  
  
Imogen kept from snorting. Rikki wasn't particularly good in confrontational situations but occasionally she came up well. This was one of those rare occasions.  
  
Startled more by her sudden and unplanned hostility then her words, Malfoy took a moment before replying.  
  
"Carmichael, slumming it a bit then?"  
  
"Only in your company," Harry spat, unable to keep his tongue. He was annoyed that Draco would have the audacity to make Imogen and Rikki feel unwelcome on their first day. And he was showing off a bit. But that was subconscious and neither girl made note of it.  
  
Bored with the prospect of having to endure further conversation with Potter, Weasel and Potter's new mudblood harem, Malfoy went through the motions of sneering and giving them the benefit of his middle finger before stalking off, his Neanderthal-like cronies trailing behind him.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to meet him, he's a right-"Rikki cut him off.  
  
"Don't be it's not your fault."  
  
Imogen agreed. "What's another dickhead in a vast world full of them," she said with an exaggerated sweep of her arm, as if it indicate the magnitude of the earth and the company they were forced to share it with.  
  
"Met Malfoy then I see." Hermione said from behind them, no doubt returning from the library after a morning read. "What have we got?"  
  
Ron studied his timetable, holding it at arms length as if he refused to let parchment containing such vile summons come into contact with his skin.  
  
"Charms."  
  
With that came the collective sound of people rising from their seats, scrambling for bags and quills, and grumbling as they made their way to the first class of the day. Harry, Hermione and Ron began to do the same, Rikki and Imogen following suit.  
  
I swear if you get me through this, Imogen thought to herself looking skywards, talking to an unknown deity, I will bleed a sacrificial goat with your name on it.  
  
And she hurried after Rikki. 


	4. Charms and the Truth about Rikki

Thank you to all those who reviewed. I would take a bullet for you, if you would want to see this story end.  
  
Chapter 4- Charms and the Truth about Rikki  
  
Professor Flitwick stood on a precarious stack of books as he proceeded to tell the 7th year class about the complexities of Incendio charms.  
  
Rikki and Imogen sat at the back of the class, both occupied. Rikki's eyes were on Flitwick, following his lecture whilst Imogen dipped her quill in her inkbottle and doodled absently on scrap pieces of parchment. Rikki was jolted from attentive listening by the jab of Imogen and the rustle of papers as she passed a note to her.  
  
I: Haven't we done this already?  
  
R: Probably, but knowing me I'd have forgotten it by now.  
  
I: Why am I not surprised in the slightest? So what do you think of all this?  
  
R: 'This' being Hogwarts or 'this' being all the bloody gorgeous guys (and teacher) Awesome!  
  
I: I was referring to the lesson actually.  
  
R: scoffsdon't give me that. So who do you fancy? Ron? Seamus? That blonde guy we me this morning, funny name? Its not Neville is it?  
  
I: No. I don't like anyone. Stop thinking about guys.  
  
R: It's Harry isn't it?  
  
I: I DON'T like anyone. Comphrende'?  
  
R: You do.  
  
I: Do not.  
  
R: Do.  
  
I: Do not.  
  
R: Do  
  
I: This is childish.  
  
R: You started it by denying your feelings for Harry.  
  
I: I told you; I don't have feelings for anyone. Including Harry.  
  
R: Liar.  
  
I: Your irrepressible, you know that don't you.  
  
R: So you tell me.  
  
I: Meh!  
  
R: Harry and Imogen, sitting in a tree....  
  
I: I'm not dignifying that with a response.  
  
R: K-I-S-S-I-N-G  
  
"Usher! Carmichael! You are guests in my classroom and I would expect you to act accordingly. Now can either of you repeat to me the nature of an incendio charm?  
  
Rikki cleared her throat. "The incendio charm is one of the milder fire charms, similar in nature to the flamesco charm. They are rudimentary charms in a wizard's repertoire.  
  
"Not be confused with the inferno charm." Imogen continued. She pointed her wand at the parchment, detailed with her and Rikki's transgressions and muttered a charm. The paper burst into flames, smouldering before Flitwick's eyes, effectively destroying all evidence of their conversation. "Practical use of the incendio charm."  
  
Flitwick frowned in mild disapproval. "5 points from Gryffindor for cheek to a teacher," he squeaked.  
  
The class groaned and mutters began to break out.  
  
"And 5 points to Gryffindor for a thorough understanding of incendio charms. Respectively."  
  
Rikki grinned wildly and Imogen resisted the urge to do the same. Flitwick climbed back on his literary podium and carried on with the lecture, Rikki listening attentively and Imogen doodling on a piece of scrap parchment. Just like old times.  
  
Rikki wandered the echoing tall corridors, hearing her footsteps resound off the stone walls. It was only her second day of schooling at Hogwarts and already she was tired and weary of her classes and unescapable teachers that peered forebodingly down on her, making her squirm (at least more then usual, as a skirt as short as hers often made her squirm), when she didn't know the antidote to the common flu or the counter-jinx to a Jelly-Legs hex.  
  
To the right of her, she could hear the squeaking voice of Professor Flitwick, directing first years to levitate feathers. Rikki stepped up next to the window, guarded by the heavy curtain on the inside. She watched as the timid students poked hopefully at still feathers. Rikki watched a young wizard slide his wand under his feather and flick it up, jabbing his friend in the side, showing him his 'talent'. She smiled, remembering her first day at Beauxbatons and how she'd done the exact same trick, except the teacher has see her and had gotten her to attempt levitating a trunk of school books. Rikki could still see the laughter on Imogen's face as she tried to destroy the Howler sent by her mother for breaking her first wand within a week of owning it.  
  
Rikki admired the pale young witch so much like her friend had been, in the front corner lift her feather off the desk. The feather quivered and then fell gracefully onto the desk...Rikki turned away.  
  
Rikki made her way towards the sun, watching the ground of Hogwarts disappear into nothing. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as the wind gently tickled her body. She belonged here; she could hear the wind beckoning her name. Here she could find peace, away from the eyes of those who followed her every move. Imogen often admonished her for disappearing like this. Rikki often ignored this gesture; she needed to escape...she'd found a way to leave and find her peace that often disappeared on the ground, without drawing attention to herself-  
  
"...but Rikki, a young witch, in a ridiculously short skirt, often the attention of hormone-crazed boys, disappearing and being placed a bloody great big eagle in the sky is hardly likely to go unnoticed.  
  
To which Rikki would reply. "Well they'd see more if they looked at the 'bloody great big eagle' that doesn't wear anything, rather then trying to look up my skirt."  
  
Imogen often rolled her eyes and stormed out at this point. "Rikki, you're an animagus, for God's sake, you don't need to have everyone know that, and I doubt the boys are at all interested in the body of an eagle. They'd much rathe see you flying naked as a human than flying naked as an eagle. And you're practically asking them to look up at your skirt at that length.  
  
Rikki smiled at the arguments they often had. She loved her best friend dearly, especially when she managed to drive her insane with her ditziness. She allowed herself to pummel to the ground, and pulling out of the dive at the last before morphing back into her human form as she landed gently on the ground before walking nonchantly out of the forest. It was time for her flying lesson with Oliver. Oh the irony.  
  
Rikki wrapped her arms around herself as she walked silently towards the Entrance Hall where Oliver had arranged to meet her. Her shoes echoing as they had done moments before, she spun slowly on her heels waiting for Oliver to arrive as she stood by herself in the large Hall.  
  
Distant footsteps in the hall jolted Rikki from her solitude. A body hurried towards her. She recognised the figure; it was one she had secretly been studying for the past few days at mealtimes. Oliver Wood stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"Sorry I'm late. Had to find a broom for you- school ones are a bit dodgy, but I managed to fix it best I could... that is, if you don't already have a broom?" He questioned Rikki.  
  
"Er-no. Daddy was going to buy me one, but I insisted he didn't, as I never really grasped the flying concept. Besides, my hands are empty." She held her hands out to the side, demonstrating her empty palms.  
  
"Course." Oliver brushed his ignorance off with a smile. "Anyway, ah...shall we make our way towards the Quidditch pitch?" He gestured with his right hand towards the Entrance doors, indicating that Rikki should go first.  
  
They walked to the pitch in silence, Rikki searching her mind for something to say, and hopefully break the ice that hung between them. Upon reaching the pitch, Oliver held open a door to let her in. Stepping into the light, she cast her eyes around the tall goalposts and high stands that were raised above ground level. She could not hide her amazement.  
  
"Wow,' she spoke softly. 'It's nothing like at Beauxbatons. It's...it's something else."  
  
Oliver smiled at her genuine astonishment. 'Yeah it is." He looked up at the goal post he knew so well. "Even better when you're up there, flyin'. Hear everyone cheerin' you on, feel the excitement. Wicked feeling..." his voice faded off.  
  
Rikki looked over at his clouded eyes and his face that was lifted towards the sky. Noticing her eye, Oliver regained his professional attitude. "Right. Flying."  
  
Oliver launched into a brief lecture about brooms and the safety of flying, as Rikki nodded her head. Her eyes looked over the two brooms in his hand, one of which was ratty and dull, with splinters and twigs sticking out of the end. She assumed that this was the school broom she was to ride.  
  
The other one was the finest racing broom in the country, the Firebolt. She knew by the gold name engraved in the top of the handle. Its brush was sleek and tied with gold. It was obvious it was Oliver's, being a professional Quidditch player.  
  
"Okay. Now first of all I want you to grasp the handle with your left hand." Oliver passed the dilapidated broom to Rikki, his fingers grazing her palm. She looked into his eyes and gripped the handle tightly.  
  
"Now swing your left leg over the broom. Yeah that's it. Budge up a bit, but. You don't want to fall off."  
  
Rikki swung over the broom and looked over at Oliver to follow his next instructions.  
  
"Right, you're right handed aren't you?" Rikki nodded. "Okay, put your right hand in front of your left hand. Guides better, like, being the more coordinated hand and all. Now all you do is gently push off from the ground. Lean back to go higher, right? And when you want to come down, just lean forward. Right? And I'll be flying around, too, in case...well, if anything happens, you know?"  
  
Oliver easily got on to his broom and looked at Rikki.  
  
"Now?" She asked him.  
  
"Yeah. Go ahead." Oliver nodded at her.  
  
Rikki gently pushed off from the ground, wobbling slightly on the broom. Oliver rising up with her. He called over to her.  
  
"Don't worry if it starts to waver or something, just these old brooms that's all."  
  
Oliver lazily made his way over to Rikki who began to turn in figure eights.  
  
She jerked to a stop next to him, hovering slightly as she wavered on her broom. Oliver took his hands off his broom and leant over. "You're still loose on the broom. You've got to be tight. Your grip's still weak." He placed his rough hands over her small hands. "Like this okay?" He let go, watching her palms.  
  
"Okay." Rikki nodded. Oliver grinned at her.  
  
"You've got it. Balance is perfect."  
  
Rikki smiled at Oliver, relaxing slightly. In the process she lost control of her broom and she and her broom fell the short way to the ground. Rolling off her broom, she sat up dazed as Oliver landed and crouched next to her.  
  
Rikki grinned sheepishly. "Told you I can't balance."  
  
Oliver grinned at her humour. "Nah, just the old broom. You only just relaxed and lost control of it. Mean, my Firebolt, I could fall asleep on it. Just the old ones you need control."  
  
Rikki got up and smoothed her crumpled skirt. Oliver looked at her. "Do you want another go?" He asked her.  
  
"Yeah." Rikki nodded confidently. "I want to get back on that broom." She glanced around to look at the broom. "On second thoughts..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the handle, which had snapped in half.  
  
Oliver followed her gaze to the broom. Drawing out his wand, he muttered "Reparo" and the broom immediately joined together. "Anyway, I should probably give that broom some servicing before it's flown again...but, you can use mine." He held the shining broom out to her.  
  
Rikki hesitantly took it. "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah." Oliver shrugged it off. "Why have you changed your mind?"  
  
"No," Rikki shook her head, her blonde hair flying around her face. "Just...I'm not so confident now..."  
  
Rikki looked relieved. "Umm, yeah thanks." Her gratitude showed through her hesitant voice as she folded her skirt around her. Oliver climbed on behind her. Hearing his voice in her ear, Oliver said, "Now grip it tight."  
  
"Yeah?" Rikki held the handle possessively.  
  
"Yeah. Now on the count of three, we'll push off. One...two...three."  
  
The broom rose quickly to the level of the goalpost due to the heavy jolt from both Oliver and Rikki. Rikki looked down at the ground that was shrinking quickly.  
  
"Oh Good Merlin." She raised her hands to her mouth in surprise.  
  
"Careful, now!" Oliver grabbed her hands, brushing softly at her soft cheek to place them back on the handle. He kept his hands over Rikki's as they began to circle the pitch and do various figures.  
  
The sky darkened as a solitary broom circled the pitch. Rikki felt the tickle of his warm breath on her neck as he spoke. "We'd better go in. Lean forward now."  
  
Rikki felt his chest resting against her back and they reached the ground. Oliver dismounted, followed by Rikki. She handed the broom to him.  
  
"Merlin." Rikki looked back up. 'That was awesome." She felt Oliver join her.  
  
"Yeah flying's not so scary, is it?" Oliver smiled as he too, looked at the dusky sky.  
  
Rikki look at him in mild surprise. "Oh-it wasn't that I was scared. I've been flying for ages. Just never on a broom."  
  
"What?" Oliver's brows crossed in confusion. "How-what do you mean you've been flying for ages?"  
  
"Oh," Rikki put one hand on her hip, as the other flicked a strand of hair out her eyes. "I'm an Animagus. Eagle. So I fly a lot. Oh-don't tell anyone. Kinda quiet."  
  
Oliver turned to look at her side on. "Really?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Rikki brushed it off. "It's no big deal. Like I said, I love flying-just never got the hang of it on a broom. Anyway." She walked over to where the school broom lay. Picking it up she handed it to Oliver.  
  
"Oh, thanks," Oliver continued to stare at her.  
  
"Anyway-shall we go in?" Rikki enquired, looking at Oliver's impressed face.  
  
"Yeah, good idea." He led the way out of the pitch into the castle. In the Entrance Hall he turned to her. "Same time next week? We've got to get you a better broom, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, okay," A small smile crossed her lips. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you at dinner, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Oliver nodded. Rikki turned and made her way towards Gryffindor tower to change before dinner. He stared at her retreating back, his mind whirring.  
  
A/N Ok everyone fourth chapter, all about Rikki. Next time we look at Imogen, her response to Rikki's admission to Oliver, Quidditch tryouts and a game against Slytherin. I know you are all thinking that Rikki's admission was a little hasty, but it's not in her nature to hide things. And don't worry Imogen isn't an Animagus, she isn't anything. I know Rikki tends to appear Mary-Sueish but that does change in later chapters.  
  
But for now a preview of the next chapter  
  
"You bastard," she sobbed into his robes. "I thought you were going to die!"  
  
Read and review! Embittered (and Nameless) 


	5. Passions Running High

A/N Here's the fifth chapter, ready and waiting. For anyone who cares to kow, I got a new laptop recently and hence will not have to type all chapters into my old, clunky, cantankerous computer which was taken to restarting half way through typing. Ergo, chapters should be, circumstances prevailing, up quicker and more often.

Chapter 5-Passions Running High

Imogen sat at one of the desks in the Gryffindor common room persuing her Charms textbook, neatly taking down the notes on Incendio charms that she should have taken in class the day before. Across the room from her, Harry and Ron were engaged in a heated game of wizards chess, Hermione spectating and commenting on the days lessons. Every now and then Imogen could feel their gaze shift over to hert and she resettled herself in her chair, uncomfortable under their examination. Just as she was feigning a look of fierce concerntration, while really trying to check them out over the edge of her book, Ron called out to her.

"Hey, Imogen! How are you at chess?"

She made a show of shutting her book and capping her inkbottle before walking over to them.

"I'm okay," she said guardedly.

Ron sighed. "Only ok? You better play Harry then." He had been hoping for some serious competition. Imogen settled herself infront of the board.

"Black or white?" Harry asked.

"Black."

As white Harry made the first move. The game began. Finding spectating boring in comparision to playing, Ron started to badger Hermione to help him with his Transfiguration essay. Eventually she caved in leaving Harry and Imogen alone.

"You know before, when I said I was ok at chess?" Imogen said as she commanded her pawn to E5. "I was lying."

"What?" Harry asked. "Are you Beauxbatons defending champion or something and were just being modest?"

Imogen grinned. "On the contrary. I suck. I was just lying to make myself seem more capable." Harry's knight moved forward and obliterated her pawn. "See?"

Harry laughed. "I don't mind. I haven't won in ages, thanks to Ron. Do you do that often?"

"What?" Imogen asked perplexed. "Lose? All the time. I think even Rikki's beat me a few times."

Harry laughed again. Imogen was beginning to like the sound. "I meant lie to make yourself seem more capable."

"Oh, not really. I don't often feel the need to."

"So you were just doing to be impressive."

Imogen quirked an eyebrow. "Don't get ahead of yourself." She knocked out his bishop." I never said anything about trying to impress anyone."

"I have a tendency to do that." He studied the board intently. "Or maybe it was just bravado to show you I was capable. Checkmate."

"What?" She said astonished. "How'd you do that?"

Harry shrugged.

"Right, you win this time. But next time it's best out of three and we'll make a wager."

"Deal, get ready to fork over the doe, Usher." He replied jovially, returning his pieces to their respectful positions.

"In your dreams."

Just then Rikki burst through the portrait hole and dashed up the stairs to the girls dormitories, gesturing for Imogen to follow.

"Will you take a raincheck?" Imogen excused herself.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, trying to hide the mild sense of disapointment he felt. "Another time."

And Imogen followed her friend, Harry staring moodily at her ready, lined up chess pieces.

Days passed with relative monotony, the 7th years soon immersed in their final year of schooling, one that promised to be more academically challenging then their previous. But even the busy 7th years found time for Quidditch.

The group of hopeful players huddled together on the pitch, talking quietly among themselves, before Ron called them to attention.

"Alright, you bunch of miscreants, your captain wishes to speak with you."

The players turned their attention to Harry, who looked slightly chagrinned after his vice-captains call. Ron was taking his job very seriously.

"Thank you Ron. Well, you're obviously all here to try out for a place on the team. We only have vacancies for one Chaser and a Beater. So if you break up, prospective Beaters to my left, Chasers to my right, we'll get started. Ron and I will be flying about assessing you performance. Postitions will be posted on the noticeboard early next week. Training is Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. For those who don't make it there is always next year."

The group divided and were about to begin when a lone figure streaked across the pitch towards them, broomstick in hand. Imogen came to a halt before them, panting for breath.

"Sorry...late...lost again...Peeves...tripped down...them bloody stairs...sorry...late."

"That's okay." Harry said. "We're just getting started."

"The Chasers are over there." Ron added. Breath returned, Imogen appraised him sceptically.

" What makes you think I'm a Chaser?"

Ron shrugged. "You're a girl."

Imogen did not respond directly to that comment. " Where are the Beaters?"

"Over there. But you're not trying out are you? You'll get beaten to a pulp." Imogen was already beginning to mount her broom.

"This isn't some pussy French game!" Ron called behind her. He looked at Harry, irritated. He shook his head. Harry just shrugged and followed after her.

Tired, battered and filthy, the players arrived on the ground and hour and a half later, after a harsh and vigorous training. Imogen felt the way everyone did after tryouts of any kind-frustrated with her performance. She didn't paticularly want to talk to Ron afterwards, sure that he would gloat in the face of her ineptitude. She stayed under the hot water of the shower, idly contemplating drowning herself instead of returning to Gryffindor tower. But she realised she couldn't die and leave Rikki to her wicked ways. Dressing comfortably and walking through the notorious Hogwarts corridors of many doors and passageways she came to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Wolfsbane," she mumbled dejectedly.

As she climbed through the portrait hole, she spotted Ron and Harry with Hermione and Rikki, by the fireplace and heard part of their conversation.

"... shes actually okay, works well enough with Creevey and has deadly aim..."

"Don't sound so suprised Ron, I could have told you that."

"Bet you wish you never made such a fuss now, huh?"

Relief flooding her veins, Imogen made her way towards them.

"What was that you were saying about pussy French games?"

The tip of Ron's ears began to glow pink.

" Well, you weren't that bad, you don't hit hard enough though, force needs work."

"But not half bad for a girl." Imogen summarised.

"Ok," Ron conceded. "For a girl."

The day of the first Quidditch match dawned bright and clear. Even Imogen was up early, pacing the Gryffindor room absently, trying to ignore Rikki's vacuous prattle about how hot Oliver would look in his umpiring robes. Just as Imogen started to threaten Rikki about taking her Beaters club to the blonde, Ron and Harry appeared from the boy's staircase, Ron's complexion leaning towards a moere green tinge in colour whereas Harry looked so lost in thought that he tripped down the last two steps. Rikki and Hermione in tow, the Gryffindor quidditch team made its way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry and Ron flat out refused to eat anything, despite Hermione's threats and dire warnings. Imogen fixed herself a cup of strong cup of coffee, which she promptly sprayed all over Nevile after the first mouthful.

"Sorry, Neville," she apologised weakly. " I made it with pumpkin juice instead of milk. So sorry."

Neville just nodded wetly.

"Concentrate, Imogen, would you!" Hermione scolded like a fussy mother, whipping her wand out and drying Neville with a flick and a muttered incantation.

Breakfast preceeded without anymore coffee catastrophes and soon the Quidditch team assembled outside the changerooms. Hermione bade them good luck. Imogen pulled on her red robes and yanked irritably at her wristguards.

"Stupid wretched things." She muttered as she tried to fasten them. In the end she gave up and let Ginny help her. Robed and ready, the team prepared for the typical pre-match pep talk.

"Now, we've got some fresh blood this year, Imogen, Jacob," Harry began. "Keep an eye out for some of their trickier moves, they can be dirty snakes when cornered. The rest of you, you know the score. Gryffindor hasn't won the cup since 5th year, what with the Triwizard tournament, and Umbridge, and the draw last year." Harry's voice grew bitter. "I never want to have to share the Cup with Malfoy again. Clear?" Heads nodded.

They walked out on to the pitch, Seamus' magically booming voice echoing through the stands.

"Out come the Gryffindors, Captain Potter, Vice Weasley, Weasley, Creevey, Patil and new recruits, Woodward and Usher. They're going to be a difficult team to beat."

The Gryffindor stands errupted in a wave of scarlet rossettes and cheers.

"And the Slytherins..." Seamus said in a monotone. "Lead by Malfoy..." Commentary was punctuated with some irritated mumblings that sounded suspiciously like 'poncy git' as Malfoy blew kisses to the swooning females in the Slytherin stands.

"Captains, shake hands." Oliver ordered.

Malfoy and Harry stepped forward. Imogen thought it looked more like a heated game of thumb wars then a handshake.

"On my whistle...three...two...one."

Imogens broom shot forward and she relished the feeling of soaring through the air. She hovered and readied her grip on her club before tearing off towards a Bludger.

"And Gryffindor has the Quaffle, Weasley to Patil, Weasley again-dodge that Ginny! Sickert of Slytherin defending goalposts-AND SHE SCORES!"

Ginny made a victorious gesture in the air.

"Slytherin in posession again-Rankin to Deaver-Block that goal Ron! Nice save from the Weasley King!"

Harry flew about, focused solely on a search for the Snitch. He didn't notice the Bludger coming from his left. SLAM! Imogen slugged the Bludger at Malfoy with all her might.'

"Thanks Imogen." Harry yelled. She just grinned as Malfoy pirouetted wildly to dodge the oncoming Bludger. How she loved bloodsports.

"Creevey hit that Bludger! Jacob Woodward of Gryffindor with the Quaffle-nice swerve-he's intent on goal-SPECTACULAR SHOT THERE! THIRTY-ZERO!"

Imogen hit a Bludger away from Parvarti to Colin who whacked it at the Slytherin Keeper. Neither of them noticed the second Bludger, hit by a vicious Slytherin Beater, straight at Ron. Time stopped and and silence descended on the pitch as Ron tried to dodge it. But too late. The Bludger collided with his stomach, effectively winding him and sending his broom careening forward. There was an anguished scream from the Gryffindors as Hermione watched in horror as Ron continued to fall. Imogen started to speed towards him, as did everyone else on the Gryffindor team, but it was too late, he would hit the ground before anyone reached him. Suddenly, with an almighty wrench, Ron turned his broom upwards and blocked Deaver from the goal he was about to score while everyone was watching Ron's dramatic descent.

The stands errupted in a rousing rendetition of 'Weasley is our King' as the Slytherins booed loudly. Furious with the Slytherins and with herself for not having blocked Ron's Bludger, Imogen knocked a Bludger hard into the Slytherin stands, effectively quelling any further remarks from the Slytherins. The team played with renewed effort, enthused by Ron's miraculous recoverey. Imogen played so hard she thought her arms were going to drop off when she heard Seamus yell.

"Potter's spotted the Snitch-Malfoys on his tail-YES, YES-And Harry's got the Snitch! Gryffindor win 180-30!"

The Gryffindor team hit the ground estatic, Creevey kissing everyone rather enthusedly on the cheek, including Ron, before Harry coud restrain him. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike poured on to the field, but in the forefront a bushy haired brunette rushed forward and threw herself at Ron.

"You bastard!" She sobbed into his robes. " I thought you were going to die!"

"Oh, come on Mione, I'm alright, really-" Ron protested before Hermione kissed him soundly on the lips. Harry was cheering with rest of them as he watched his two best friends snog heavily in the middle of the pitch. Imogen whistled.

"Good game." Harry said to her, grinning wildly.

"You too."

Harry made like he was going to hug her but thought better of it, then decided to do it anyway. She laughed at his exuberance as he spun her around.

"How longs that been coming?" She asked him, gesturing to Ron and Hermione, still kissing while Jacob pretended to pry them apart with the end of his broom.

"Since first year."

The euphoric Gryffindors exeunted the pitch.

A/N Ok there was chapter 5, Hermione and Ron are indeed an item, not matter how much you deny it or try to ignore it, I'm afraid it is inevitable. Next a party in the Gryffindor common room, an interesting encounter with Firewhisky and the Quidditch superhero. Read and review!

Embittered (and Nameless)


End file.
